AN: I actually started this a while back, but it took forever to finish. I'm not sure I'm entirely happy with the way it turned out, it kind of took a turn I wasn't expecting. Ah, well, that's what most of my fics do to me, anyway. Depending on how you look at it, this is either a friendship piece or a pre-relationship piece. Some slight spoilers for the season finale, but nothing huge. I hope you enjoy.
Disclaimer: I do not and never will own Necessary Roughness. I'm not nearly rich enough for that. I only play with the characters occasionally.
They had a strict no touching policy. Dani wasn't sure exactly how it had happened, or when Nico put it into place. It's not like they ever spoke about it. Certainly she used touch freely with the other people in her life – friends, co-workers, clients, all – to express anything from anger to excitement, sympathy to desperation, affection to urgency. But somehow, between the two of them there existed a barrier, like an invisible wall that would only let them get so close to each other and no farther. She's not even sure it was him that put it in place. It was almost an instinctual act on both their parts, one they barely noticed. It reminded her of trying to push together two magnets that repelled one another. It didn't happen. It couldn't happen. Their hyper-awareness of the other's proximity would not allow it.
She could only imagine that to someone who was paying attention it would seem almost funny, a choreographed dance to entertain. She would go to lay a hand on his arm and would fall short, just brushing the tips of her fingers on his coat sleeve. He would lean in to tell her information, and would frame her, carefully leaving an inch or so between every part of their bodies. They would pass each other in a crowded hall and push against the people surrounding them to avoid brushing the other person. A teasing remark would not be followed by a playful bump of the shoulder or elbow, but merely a look full of amusement. Hugs were completely out of the question.
She had broken the rule only once. Touched Nico's arm when he told her to drop the poker player as a client, just to make sure he knew she meant it when she said she couldn't. The answering intensity as he told her that he was concerned about her safety had scared her a little. She couldn't say his reaction would have been different if she hadn't touched him, but...
Since then she hadn't pushed the issue. It wasn't as if it was a hindrance to their relationship. If anything, they understood each other almost too well. Though their methods may differ, the motivation behind their jobs was identical; they were fixers, both of them. Nico looked at a situation and tried to figure out what he could do to make it better. Dani looked at people the same way. Between them, she thought they could fix anything. They perfectly complemented each other. And there was a level of communication between them that bypassed the majority of the population. She was pretty sure they could have an entire, completely private conversation simply by looks and body language, both able to pick up on the subtlest of indicators.
That understanding was one of those uncomfortable truths about which Dani didn't quite want to think too much. Ray had cheated on her, her best friend was moving out of the country, and she and Nico were almost perfectly in tune with each other. All fell under the category of subjects to avoid.
Of course, that wasn't always possible. Not when the reality of signing her divorce papers finally hit her fully at the worst possible time, and the one person she really wanted to talk to was across an ocean, and her alternate was unavailable, and even if Margo was around, Dani couldn't leave the crisis of the moment, because any second now she would be needed to lend her expertise, but all she really wanted to do was slink into a dark corner somewhere and cry over the ruins of the last seventeen years of her life...
And then she glanced over at Nico, standing quietly in the background as per usual, and found he was watching her carefully, understanding and sympathy in his eyes. With a single nod towards the door and a quirk of the eyebrow, his offer was clear. She could leave if she wanted; he would make her excuses. But at that moment, all she could think about was the warmth in his gaze, the way it enveloped her from across the room, giving her the feeling of being tightly wrapped in a strong pair of arms that belonged to someone who would be there for her no matter what, a warmth she could sink into and find a measure of strength to keep going, even if she didn't really want to, because she was needed. And as she gave him a small smile and shake of her head, she reflected on their situation, surprising herself with her acceptance of their distance. For now.
But really, who needs touch, anyway?